The Fine Line between Love and Insanity
by whisper-wish
Summary: What if Voldemort had really hidden a burning passion ... for a witch of his kind? And how is their daughter supposed to cope with her true, deadly parentage, as she struggles to face her prophesied nemesis, Harry Potter? Rated for angst OCVoldy, R
1. Chapter 1

Authors Note:

The story format might be hard for you to follow, but I hope you understand. It goes like this: 'intro – flashback - pause – flashback – chara conclusion'. I know the entire storyline might be a bit fragmented, but you'll be able to put it together ... I hope.

_Legend:_

xXx – marks the beginning and end of a flashback

OoO – beginning and/or end of a segment

Without further ado, let's get into it!

OoO

Chapter One: Into the Pensieve

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

How many countless times Luci had heard those words, she had no idea. All she knew was that they were growing tiresome, and her reply was a tedious task. If only those professors had the sense to _shut up and think about what they were implying. _Was she uncertain? No. Was she afraid? ... Maybe. After all, it had taken years and years of effort to collect these fragmented, broken memories. She wasn't giving in now. The raven-haired girl shook her head furiously, and turned to the tall man standing before her, white hair trailing onto the floor of his study.

"No, I'm fine, Professor Dumbledore. I _want _to know."

The Headmaster watched her. Luci's mouth was drawn into a thin line, her pale face – reminiscent of another man's – thin and determined. Her bottom lip protruded slightly, as it had always done when she was on the verge of frustration, or worse, tears. She looked so small, a miniscule perfection in her Hogwarts uniform. He could almost relate – if she _was _who she _thought _she was ... she had nowhere else to belong.

"Very well, Luci. Let us begin."

Luci paused, and a few tears spilled freely from her dark lashes onto her pale face. Dumbledore looked away in the nick of time, giving her a few moments to brush them away. Then she nodded once more, and approached the sturdy looking desk laid out for her. It didn't _look _like it had any real purpose, other than supporting the ornate silver Pensieve atop it. Awkwardly, Luci traced the outline of the silver bowl. Dumbledore produced something from the hem of his robes, and with his bright eyes still on his pupil, emptied the glistening contents of his flask into the Pensieve. The memories fell slowly, almost sluggishly, finally settling in the basin.

"So I," Luci began awkward, "I just s..."

"Stick your nose into it, yes." Dumbledore said, and there was the faintest sound of pleasant laughter echoing in his tone, "Go ahead. I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

It was the female pronoun that really got to Luci. She turned to Dumbledore, on the verge of saying something, _anything, _then paused. She nodded once, and turned back to the Pensieve. With a small, half-hearted chuckle, the girl thrust her face down. For a moment, there was nothing but the uncertainty of magic around her. And then hands closed around her own, a soft gentle grasp – dimly, Luci wondered whether it was like this for every Pensieve-user, or whether it was the touch of – again she flinched away from the word. And then she was falling, falling through nothingness into a misty world.

xXx

The first thing Luci noticed was the shadows. They shifted awkwardly; it had to be late in the evening. Very late. The memory had a surreal, uncertain feeling to it. Grey and purple shadows flitted across the sky, and the world hovered in a haze of history. She stood, bruised and awkward, and promptly slipped through the rough brick wall of Hogwarts school. Cursing, she turned – Dumbledore had warned her of this.

It was then that she saw the boy. He was gangly, like the red-head that hung around a certain scarred wizard, and many other adolescents. His hair was smoky charcoal. The sun played across his damp locks, making him seem all the more godlike, bronze in the light... brilliant ... Luci crept out, and saw him for who he was; an ordinary wizard, face plain as dirt and sprinkled with freckles, dark eyes smoldering. Nonetheless, there was something special about him. Luci's breath caught in her throat. She didn't even want to contemplate the possibilities that _this_ was her fa-...

"Addy! Hurry up and get down here already!"

His voice was coarse, too, but it belonged to an average student. Luci leapt back, and landed on the springy grass. She felt so weightless. She heard the rattle and chank of chains and glass, and glanced up at the tower the wizard was standing at, head tilted upwards so his voice would reach the windows several storeys up. Finally, a window creaked open painfully, and a head peeked out, light-gold waves obscuring the face.

What Luci saw was almost a mirage. Pale, porcelain features ... light blue eyes that were so, so similar to Dumbledore's, framed with smoky lashes. Unkempt, honey-colored curls – they looked natural that way. Maybe she got her hair from her father. A ripple of fear went through Luci, but she kept her eyes firmly fixed to Adelaide. She _was _pretty, the memory-traveller realized; maybe that was why ...

"I'm coming, Stan." Adelaide called back down, and her voice was an echo of her daughter's; cool, collected, but with the slightest tinge more sweetness.

Adelaide's face disappeared from the windowsill, and Luci knew she was running downstairs. The next moment, she re-appeared, in all her golden glory. She pattered towards Tristan, and at the last moment, pushed him over. Tristan fell backwards into the mud, and Adelaide giggled. Dripping mud, her friend re-appeared, and shoved at her playfully. Luci took a cautious step back as the two of them teased each other.

"It's past curfew," Adelaide finally said, somewhat breathless, "why are you here?"

"What, you expected me to go and leave you all alone with those skimpily clad girls in your dorm?" Tristan replied, winking, "Nah, not a chance."

"You have to go, Stan." Adelaide said, a little more seriously now as she brushed her golden bangs out of her eyes, "_Riddle's coming."_

The words sent a chilling thrill up her daughter's spine, so close and yet so far, standing next to her memory-composed mother. More than anything, Luci wanted to talk. Her throat ached with words unspoken. She tugged at her mother's sleeve, but her fingers slipped right through the material. She stood in front of Adelaide, waving, desperate, trying to touch her mother's face – trying to do _anything, _and yet, Adelaide remained unaffected.

Adelaide froze, and Luci ducked away instinctively. A cold voice rang out, and that was when Luci's blood went cold.

"Bones, Hoffman. Might I ask what you're doing out here so late?"

Adelaide's face had changed so quickly, on many, many different emotions, but had finally settled on a pleasant smile. Nonetheless, there was no warmth – no heartfelt happiness in her smile. The mud-covered Tristan turned awkwardly, uncertain what to do. Finally, he bent over sideways, so a clear view of speaker and recipent was obvious.

Tom Riddle was as handsome as ever, in flowing black robes that matched his jet-black hair. His eyes were cold. His gaunt face were as pale as ever, and his gaze was searching. His lips were pressed thin. Luci half-expected a fanclub to come hovering after him, but there was none; apparently, Riddle was merely on some form of Prefect duty. But try as she might, Luci could spot no liking, let alone _love _between her so-called mother and father.

"We were-" Adelaide began, her voice a notch higher than usual, "I fell from the window when I was admiring the view, and Sta- Tristan cast the levitation spell on me, else I would've died."

By her side, Tristan Bones nodded earnestly.

"I'll be expecting better of you in future, Hoffman." Riddle said, and Luci could detect no form of malice whatsoever in his voice. He merely sounded like another put-off Prefect by nuisances of fellow students. "Be careful, now."

Tristan had already melted mysteriously out of view, leaving Adelaide standing there, apparently alone, in her grubbied dressing robe. She looked young and feeble – Luci had to remind herself that her mother was only in first year at this time, and yet still, Riddle's sharp reprimand had left her speechless. She paused, and then turned on her heel, hurrying after Riddle. A moment later, she caught hold of her senior's robe.

"Senior Riddle!"

"What is it, Hoffman?" Riddle said, half-turning, but Luci could see the awkward, unexplainable smile hovering about his lips, "It's unusual for you to come after me ... let alone be so polite."

"Sen-"

"The politeness, I'm sure, is entirely you." Riddle's lips twisted into a snide smirk as he continued on, "However, that friend of yours ... despite his heritage ... is rather uncouth."

By her sides, Adelaide's tiny hands balled up into miniscule fists. Luci's eyes widened. Quite obviously, her mother detested her ... now, even Luci was uncertain as to her true parentage. Instead, she watched, silently cheering on her mother's side of the argument. Adelaide's face was flushed with frustration, and yet she made no sound. Riddle's face was smooth as ever as he gazed down upon the younger girl.

"Senior ... Riddle ... Tristan really hasn't done anything." Adelaide finally said.

"It's been halfway through the year." Riddle replied coldly. "And he's already had two warnings. Might I remind you, Hoffman, of his behaviour. You'd do well to stay away from him."

"_Senior Riddle!"_

But Riddle had already turned, and was striding away fast, footsteps ringing out in the silence of the evening. Luci hurried after him, leaving her frazzled-looking mother behind, tears glistening in her eyes. What was most important _now _was to discover whether there had been, or ever would be, any form of loving connection between this man. Luci almost spat at Voldemort's feet; this vile, distasteful man.

OoO

The Slytherin common rooms were dimly lit by the subtle green glow of the lake. Luci hadn't liked crossing the damp dungeons, despite her ethereal non-existence, but she had no choice. She had listened to Riddle utter a series of slithering clicks, _his _way of opening the door rather than remembering the meagre password that offered no proof to his royal bloodline. Riddle slithered in just as smoothly as the snakes he emulated, and dropped into an armchair.

Luci didn't like it in the common room, but still, she stayed. Minutes passed, and the ticking of the clock seemed ever-present. She knew of the magical enchantments in every place of Hogwarts, silently recording every student's deeds. Dumbledore must've accessed these recordings to have remembered them. She wondered why it was of great importance. Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't. Finally, Riddle stood.

Luci turned, and to her surprise, saw a cold smile split the handsome boy's face in half. It wasn't malicious however; it held all the ecstasy of a fanatic. One low, gruff laugh rang out around the common room, and Voldemort's daughter flinched away. How she would've given anything – _everything ­_ not to claim the man before her as her father. But that was what she was here for, Luci reminded herself silently – to find proof that she wasn't Voldemort's daughter.

Riddle's chuckles died away, and his eyes went cold. And then, on the tip of his tongue, came equally smooth, slithering words, that shook Luci right to the marrow. But she had no idea what they meant. Then Riddle spoke once more.

"Ah ... that girl ... she ..."

XxX

Luci wrenched herself upright, silver liquid dripping from her hair, her eyes, her nose, her ears. She had been completely submerged, so lost in the memories that she hadn't seen how much time had passed. Dumbledore's hand was firmly clenched around her upper arm, his face calm, almost pitying. He handed her a towel. Silently, Luci wiped the gunk off.

"I ... saw my mother ..."

Dumbledore merely looked at her. "Was that what you wanted to see, Luci?"

Luci didn't know anymore. She wiped the last of the memory-juice from her face, and handed the towel back to Dumbledore. He accepted it silently, cleaning it with a simple wave of his wand, and nodded towards the door. Luci left, silent, gracious. Adelaide Hoffman ... the name ran through her mind, a tiny flicker of consciousness.

My mother, Luci thought, and a pang went through her as she remembered the golden-haired girl. _My mother._

So lost in her thoughts was she, she never noticed the dark-haired boy coming up the stairs at the same time she went down. Their shoulders brushed, and Luci let out a squeal of surprise as she looked up. A thin face ... messy, unruly black hair, just like Tristan's ... large eyes that blinked at her behind golden glasses .. Luci started back instinctively, and then dashed down the stairs, black hair whisking out behind her.

"I wonder what was wrong with her?" the girl heard Harry Potter ponder, as she struggled with the stone gargoyles.

She heard Dumbledore's voice welcome Harry, and then there was silence. Luci's energy left her, and she slumped against the wall, shoulders heaving. Adelaide Hoffman ... that beautiful, charming girl ... she was happy to claim her as her mother. But if that purity had been robbed by that hideous, hideous man ... the one who had laughed at her mother's memory ... tears pricked Luci's eyes, and she slid down silently, unable to stand.

If she truly was Voldemort's daughter, how could that ever make her equal to stand and look Harry Potter in the eye, the one who had banished her father, the one who shared a common room with her, the one that should be her enemy ...?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Encounter:

Luci didn't want a shared class. She didn't like class, full stop. Nonetheless, the dark haired girl gathered up her books into a small bundle, shoving them into her bag unceremoniously, while attempting to jam her wand through the loop in her jeans, hidden beneath her robes. Needless to say, the result was that the bag fell from Luci's grip, falling onto the merciless stairs and splitting open. A chorus of jeers and laughter came from a crowd of Slytherins passing them, and Luci flushed furiously, ducking her head and bending to pick up her belongings. Several boys jostled with one another to get closer, and Luci scowled furiously at her feet - if _he _had been her father, the least he could've done was _not _pass his looks onto her. But as she scrabbled on the ground to collect the last of her broken quills, a warm hand landed on her's.

Startled, Luci looked up into the face of Harry Potter.

"Are you alright?" The Boy who Lived asked quietly, "Ignore those Slytherins."

"I'm fine." Luci managed, immediately ducking away so she wouldn't have to look into his clear green eyes any moment longer, "I just dropped my stuff ..." she finished, gesturing weakly at the pile of objects.

Harry laughed, a true and friendly sound, and a jolt of confusion seared through Luci. If she really was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's daughter, then shouldn't she be ignoring him, or worse, hitting him, causing a ruckus, _anything _to get him away from her? Nonetheless, Luci pegged her lips, and managed an awkward smile as the two of them swept the rest of her belongings into a neat pile. From one side, Harry's constant companion, the bushy haired girl, raised her wand and muttered something. The rest of Luci's books mended themselves, and flew into her newly sewn-up bag. Luci sent the Granger girl a grateful smile.

"Thank-you." she said, over Harry's head, "I'll get going now."

To her surprise, he held her back, "Hang on. You've still got ink on you."

"I'll be fine!" Luci blurted, more mortified than ever. The need to _do _something was overwhelming, "Just let me get to class!"

She darted past him, all too thankful for her slight frame, hearing Harry's somewhat surprised remark of 'Okay ... then ...'. Black hair whirling out behind her, Luci scrambled forward wildly, no longer concerned with her wand or her books - only desperate to get to Transfiguration class. Wouldn't it have been so much easier if she was in a different year, in a different place from Harry Potter? So much easier. Luci almost cast a silent, desperate wish that it was possible for her to transfer to Slytherin. After all, that was where she belonged. Voldemort's daughter shouldn't have a place in Gryffindor.

OoO

"Luci, you're quite pale. Maybe we should postpone our session."

Luci was trembling. She could hardly hold still from either irritation or fear - her legs buckled and her throat was dry, her words coming in hitches. But now, under Dumbledore's penetrating blue gaze, it was only frustration that fuelled her. She shook her head, her dark eyes meeting Dumbledore's in a determined gaze, and then she stepped forward. The silvery liquid of her mother's friends memories shifted and swirled beneath her. Luci tested her weight, and for a single moment, saw Adelaide and Tom Riddle together, eyes locked. Startled, Luci stumbled forwards into the memories.

XxX

Adelaide's pale porcelain features were as drawn as ever, dark bruising beneath her eyes. She looked ill, Luci realized with a jolt, terribly ill. Her honey-colored locks had been forced back into awkward plaits, and the result was Adelaide's thin white face exposed for all to see. For some reason, her plain friend, Tristan, wasn't anywhere around. Adelaide glanced around nervously, before raising a small fist, and rapping at the door. After three knocks, the door swung open, but no-one was there. Adelaide glanced around awkwardly, and then gripping her thin robes around her even more, scurried forwards.

The Prefects chambers were immaculate, a small fire burning in the corner. Luci recognized the room, but the green hangings, the ornate silver snakes, and serpentine decorations were different. And in the corner - Luci gasped, and quite lost her dignity, jerking backwards and toppling into a chest. When she pulled herself out of the chest, she found Adelaide there, face more drawn than ever, blue eyes wide and darting all over the place. A strangled cry hitched itself in Luci's throat as Tom Riddle stood, in all his dark elegance, and moved towards Luci's mother. Still, Adelaide stood, resolute silent, unmoving.

"Don't!" Luci cried, knowing all too well no-one would hear, "Don't, Mum, stop, don't go to him!"

"Adelaide," Riddle said at the same time, that weird smile twisting his features oddly, "How ... nice to see you again."

He reached forwards, as if to stroke her face, and then dropped his hand as Adelaide flinched. She was trembling furiously, thin frame wracked with fear as she shuddered, uable to control her convulsions. At the sight, Riddle grinned, and Luci winced - was her mother's fear_ provocative and alluring_ to him. But Luci could almost imagine why - Adelaide was so small, so frail, it seemed so easy to crush her.

"I-I've got one thing to ask you, Senior Riddle," Adelaide managed to say, ducking her head so she wouldn't have to meet his smoldering gaze, "I just ... please ...Tristan ..."

Riddle's mouth curved into a cold frown. "You mean that playboy associate of yours? I believe I was right in giving him a detention on the Quidditch match that he, as Keeper, was most needed as."

"You can't!"

Adelaide hesitated, and Luci, heart pounding furiously, bowed her head, too frightened to look on. She glanced up for one moment, and saw her mother, as frightened as ever, head bowed, golden hair unable to hide her face. Every moment longer they stayed in Riddle's company, the defying fact that Adelaide seemed to both loathe and love Riddle burned on. Indeed, as Adelaide looked up, Luci could see it - some sort of wild wonder, and at the same time, a strong fear defying any other form of admiration the Gryffindor girl might have felt. Adelaide pulled her robes around her even tighter, hoping to hide herself.

"Sta ... Senior, we need Tristan ... please!" Without warning, Adelaide's hands shot out - she seized the front of Riddle' robes, who unabashedly looked on, as if girl's beseeched him for help every day, "We can't do anything without him! Our team needs him!"

Riddle paused, and Luci caught a glimpse of that cold arrogance in his face, the expression Luci wished never to see on her own features. And hatred raced through her. Riddle merely viewed her mother as a toy, something to play with, something to win, a treasure beyond all man's dreams ... _she hated him._

"Get some sleep." Riddle merely said. "And don't come wheedling to me again."

Adelaide flinched away. She released him immediately, wiping her hands on her robes, and stormed from the chambers. Riddle stood watching her go, face a mask.


	3. Chapter 3

Authors Note:

Sorry about ... the long time it took me to get this up. I hope you enjoy! Things are progressing quickly. Please, **read and review (and enjoy!) **

**Disclaimer: **All things HP, except for my beloved characters and plotline, belong to J.K Rowling.

Chapter Three: Roots

Luci was not hungry anymore. She picked at her steak uncomfortably, trying to seperate the grit from the larger portion of the meat. Someone nudged at her shoulder, and Luci turned to see a friend, his blue eyes warm with concern. He draped his jacket over her shoulders, and Luci realized she'd been shivering.

"Thanks, Adam." the girl murmured.

"No problem." he responded. "Hey, Luci – something's bothering you." he decided to finish. Adam wasn't the type to ask questions; he normally assumed, but his assumations were almost always correct.

Luci didn't respond.

"It's that Potter boy, isn't it?" he guessed this time. "Or Professor Dumbledore? You've been spending an awful lot of time with him." He paused again, and this time a hint of annoyance coloured his voice, "If it's Potter, you should know he's got that … Granger girl. Bushy-haired, buck teeth, you know – that one."

Luci turned to him, a little startled; her normally easy-going friend wasn't the type to insult people. He took the opportunity to shove a spoonful of meat into her mouth. The girl choked, then swallowed down the beef hastily. Adam thwacked her on the back while she tried to choke it down.

"You're awful easy to trick, y'know, Luci?" he told her, grinning. Another frown crossed his face. "Is that it? Has Potter been duping you … on something?"

"No, no." Luci assured him hastily. It was funny how many times Adam had mentioned Harry Potter in the last ten minutes. She shot a glance at the boy – smiling and laughing at the far end of the table with the redheaded Weasley twins, then cringed away like she'd found herself doing. Before, she'd never flinched at the sight of him; he'd simply been someone else who she'd passed in the hallway from time to time. But now – after the memories she'd seen, the girl had begun to hide away from him. He was no longer the Boy Who Lived – he was someone who might hold a closer collection to her. Someone she didn't know, and someone she didn't want to encounter.

"It's nothing, it's nothing!" she laughed off hastily, patting Adam's shoulder easily. No doubt he could hear the lie in her voice, she thought. "Ha … um, he hasn't been bothering me at all. I hardly talk to the guy – just … when I do something stupid and he passes by, you know? It's, um, it's really not bad, Adam. Don't worry."

"You do do stupid stuff often. Like falling flat on your face."

"That I do."

The boy's gaze softened. He stuffed another spoonful of mouth into her laughing face, and expecting it, this time Luci swallowed easily. Adam was a good friend, she decided, making sure she was alright. Easy to get along with, and easy on the eyes – as many of the girls had decided – with his sandy hair and laughing blue eyes. Her dinner finished, she pushed the plate away from her and hastily hugged Adam.

"You're off already?" he said, surprised.

"Yeah." Luci told him. "Off to go see Dumbledore again. Um."

"Well then, I'm coming."

"What?" Luci spluttered; she started a few steps back in surprise. "Oh no, it's good, Adam, really, you don't have to. It's boring up there."

"Nah," the boy said. He plucked his jacket off her shoulders, grinning at her, and shook it on. "I'll just come and stick by, and if anything unproper – although that's really, really, very, highly unlikely – happens, I'll be there. To, you know, protect you from anything."

"Well, I might fall short of that." Luci said doubtfully.

"I agree. You are pretty short." Adam said, seizing a handful of her hair gently, and tugging her forward.

"As if." Luci complained, but came with him willingly.

A little bit of her was eased by the idea of Adam accompanying her; his warm presence made her feel eversafe. But all the same, she did not want him to see her shudder before the Pensieve, Dumbledore standing at her back. She did not want him to see her plunge face-first into silvery memories that she'd fought to gather, see her re-emerge shaken and scared and all the more fragile than she'd ever been before.

"Adam." she said, catching his arm gently. He turned back, surprised. "I … you can follow me up the staircase. But-"

"You don't want me to come any further?" he said, his face now serious.

"That's it." Luci said, and she broke out into a relaxed smile. "I don't mean it in a bad way – it's just that -"

"I might not want to see what happens up there." he finished grimly. "If it scares you so badly you came down shaking at night, I don't think you want me to see it either."

It was scary, Luci thought sometimes, how much of a similar mind her friend was to her's.

"Thankyou." she said, smiling at him.

xXx

Adelaide was older now; that was the first thing Luci noticed. She settled slowly into her ghostly, non-existent form, trying out those limbs that seemed so fickle and weak. Her mother was smiling – in comparison to the last time Luci had seen her – and around her was gathered her friends, all good-looking, all genuinely kind. But no matter how much Luci's tired eyes searched, she could not find Tristan Bones there. They sat on the banks of the Great Lake, and the day was sunny, the grass green. All around them milled other students in their dark robes, chattering easily, some throwing pebbles into the smooth clear blue surface of the lake. All in all, it seemed perfect; like nothing and no-one could ever infect the peace of the situation.

This had surely taken place before the last memory Luci had seen; the one with her frightened, destroyed mother.

"-- Addy, are you planning on going to the Charity Ball?" one of Adelaide's friends, a plump, dark-haired girl was saying.

"Not particularly." Adelaide responded, and she stuck her tongue out at someone over her shoulder. "I'm going to spurn all my suitors."

"Even Bones?"

Luci started forwards at Tristan's name. Her ghostly body moved effortlessly, flying over the jagged green grass. A boy obscured her way, and Luci gasped as she burst through him. She shook her head; for a moment it was like she hadn't been there at all, but rather, just a _thing,_enclosed within the other boy's flesh and blood walls. No, the girl decided, she hadn't been there at all; it had been like she'd blinked out of existence for a moment in his thin, papery, half-real body. Gasping, spluttering, like she'd taken a cold shower, Luci tripped forwards.

"I couldn't," Adelaide was saying, and it cut Luci how beautiful she appeared in that one still moment; eyes flashing sapphire everyway, perfect peach lips curved up into a genuine laugh, her skin flawless and creamy – despair tugged through her stomach like a sharp knife, and Luci bent over.

She had never known her mother; never seen her more than a handful of times. Even there, Luci had not recognised her; she'd simply been a thin woman with sad eyes, clutching at herself as she was led back into the clean white rooms of St Mungo's. At young, Luci had been educated by the aunts with which she'd lived with that her mother had been traumatised. She'd grown to accept that, although she had wondered.

And through years of independence and solitude, Luci had grown in distance from her shadowy mother. The first memories of her; Adelaide pretty and happy, had sparked a newfound warmth inside her heart, and Luci had both smiled and cried. The next – Adelaide scared, and alone, had reopened the old jagged wound, and that was when Luci had returned shaking and crying to the dormitory, for she was sure that was the face her mother now wore – the face that her mother must've worn for a long time. And now Adelaide was happy once more, joyful and free, and once again Luci felt the tears course freely down her cheeks.

Her mother. Someone she would never know. Someone she didn't know how she felt about. But all the same, the woman who was the most important to her was there – just there. And yet, Luci still did not hurry forwards. She knew her mother would never see her, never hear her gulping sobs, never feel her daugher's presence nearby. And worse still, Luci would only ever see her mother like this; young, and innocent and joyful, never have her mother's warm words to consol her, never have her mother speak to _her _directly or touch her.

And so she kept her distance, forcing herself to remember that this Adelaide was just a memory, just a shadowy image and voice from long long ago, in someone else's head. She did not truly exist.

"--But he's so _handsome!" _Adelaide's dark-haired friend was protesting, "And with those dreamy eyes! And he's so very into you, Addy! I mean, you two would be perfect together – like night and day."

Adelaide tugged on a strand of her golden hair thoughtfully, and her eyes went distant. "Night and day, hey?" she murmured. "I don't know how that'd work out. Wouldn't the two cancel one another out?"

"Hey," Adelaide's friend cajoled, nudging her, "You don't have to take everything so seriously. He's good looking and into you, and you really like him --"

"As a friend." Adelaide agreed. "A really good friend. Like a _brother." _she said forcibly.

"Well then." Adelaide's friend continued, and her sparkling eyes grew solemn, "What about Senior Riddle?"

A lance of fear went through Luci's heart, and despite herself, her head jolted upwards. Tears no longer blurred her vision; it was the dry, hollow, desperate hatred that went through her that was animating her now. That man, that _man, _the girl whispered to herself. He would not touch her mother, _could _not touch her mother. How it could even be suggested – how his name could be said so lightly, and so easily – was impossible for her to comprehend. Adelaide's friend's voice held none of the fear and revulsion Addy's thoughts had. _He would not touch her mother._

But her words could not change the past.

"He's a Slytherin!" somebody objected vehemently, and a ripple of awkward laughter went through the group.

"No, no," Addy protested – but Luci could see it now, see that familiar glint of fear that was so often common in her own, "I don't mind … I don't care whether or whether not it's a Slytherin. That's just stupid, that idea. But-"

"He's good looking too." the first friend suggested, although the enthusiasm was drained from her voice, "Dark haired … pale … kind of like … a Gothic beauty, you know? And, well, he's not really popular … but he has that charm."

Luci threw up, and mildly felt surprise at the idea that her ethereal body held food in it. She wiped her mouth, and then, with the other, wiped sweat from her damp brow. Vold--- that man being named in such context, almost as if he was human, frightened her.

"N--" Adelaide began. "It's just, he's kind of … he almost scares me, you know."

"_I know." _Luci whispered, knowing her words would never reach her mother. Her mother, almost the same age as her in the past. Her mother, so innocent and young.

"How could he scare you?" There was a hint of knowledge in that voice. "Well, no-- I kno--- Addy. He always watches you. You should know that."

Adelaide's gaze dropped, and her form became very still, and Luci wondered whether she was battling interally. Her blue eyes were sad. She glanced up suddenly, her face rigid, and Luci half-turned, expecting to see the dark-haired man there. But her vision blurred before she could see anything, and suddenly the world was beginning to drift, seep away, and she was gone, fading from her mother's world.

xXx

"Luci? _Luci!"_

Adam's voice was panicked as he held her hair back, hugged her tightly before she could even choke out the words that scared her so much. He held her quaking body close, then, as if suddenly realising how cold she was, sprung back. But Luci wasn't cold; she was burning up, like fever.

"I'm okay." she murmured, and laughed. They had returned to the common room – Adam had diligently waited there, much to her surprise, and had caught her as she'd tripped just near the steps to her dormitory. "_Thank_you, Adam." she whispered feverently, like it was a prayer.

"It's not a big deal." he'd laughed back, although he'd still sounded worried. "What are friends for, hey? To watch over each other, right?"

Luci thought of her mother's friends; so well-meaning and yet so malicious, prodding her into considering a relationship that would turn her into a burnt-out wreck of a shell. She thought of the words one of them had spoken; that Addy had been being watched by a force Luci knew was darker than anything ever encountered before.

"Yeah." she murmured back. "I … I guess."


End file.
